


You Know I Don't Look Pretty When I Cry

by sayonaraaaa



Series: Your Songs [1]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Angst, Angst and Feels, Crying, F/M, Heartbreak, Hurt No Comfort, M/M, Other, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Pining, Possibly Unrequited Love, Song fic, gender neutral reader
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-13
Updated: 2020-11-13
Packaged: 2021-03-10 04:34:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,525
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27538447
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sayonaraaaa/pseuds/sayonaraaaa
Summary: But now he knows. As knocks sound from outside his door, he knows. This is the worst. And he hasn't even seen your face yet.
Relationships: Nishinoya Yuu/Reader
Series: Your Songs [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2012848
Kudos: 16





	You Know I Don't Look Pretty When I Cry

**Author's Note:**

> Based on the song Please Never Fall In Love Again by Ollie MN
> 
> I highly recommend listening to it while you read, as references to the lyrics (including the title), are made throughout.
> 
> Enjoy!

~

Noya looks at his image in the mirror, blonde bangs falling into and slightly obscuring his line of vision before he sweeps them back. He almost doesn't recognize himself. His eyes are puffy and red from crying, his hair is disheveled, and his clothes are wrinkled. 

This isn't the Nishinoya that just hours ago was teasing Hinata and Kageyama and joking around with Tanaka and doing his signature rolling thunder at practice. The stark difference between the two versions of himself sends a pang to his heart, he knows the reason behind the way he's acting.

You, of course. What else would it be?

His hands find and grip the ceramic sink, eyes twisting closed as another wave of tears threaten to fall. You're supposed to be at his door any minute now, he can't cry again. He hates the way he looks when he cries. It isn't pretty, it's more along the lines of pitifully disgusting, to be frank. 

"Get out of the bathroom, idiot." Noya says out loud quietly, forcing his feet to take him to the living room as he blinks the blur in his vision away. The way his socks unintentionally slip across the hardwood floor makes him recall a certain night, one where you came over and the two of you danced in this very same room, void of a single care in the world. The music, that had started upbeat but began to slow down as the night wore on, replays in his head while he remembers what it felt like at that moment.

-

Your fingers dug into his shoulder when he wrapped his arms around your waist. 

"I've never... slow danced with anyone before." You sheepishly admitted. Noya smiled and nuzzled his face into the crook of your neck. He adores how your bodies fit together like a puzzle.

"Me either." The song started, a slow guitar and soft voice singing longingly about someone. The two of you swayed to the sweet words of despair. Noya was addicted to the warmth of your skin and how hugging you felt like warm sunshine lighting up his life. You carefully drew him in closer so you could rest your chin on his head, a rush of comfort soothed his entire being when you did so.

-

Noya smacks his forehead, bringing himself back to reality and suddenly disappointed that something as simple as walking in his house could remind him of you. 

He sinks into the couch and allows the cushions to swallow him whole. How comforting would that feel? Suffocating in a world of feathers and soft cotton. Hell, he almost welcomes it at this point. 

The clock ticking above the TV taunts him as he puts on some random American show. Where are you? You're five minutes late.

His fingers graze his phone in his pocket, wondering if he should text you. Would you get annoyed at his insistence to see you? 

It'll be the last time, after all. He hopes you won't hate him for wondering.

-

"Noya..." You whimpered and threaded your fingers with his own. He looked at you as his eyebrows twisted together worriedly. His shoes skid against the concrete of the sidewalk in front of your house at your touch. 

"What's wrong?" Noya's thumb grazed your cheek, surprised when he ran across a tear.

"I need to tell you something," You sniffled. "S-something-"

"-Bad?" He interrupted. With a sputtered and halfhearted chuckle, you nodded, sending Noya's heart careening straight down. The anticipation of what you had to say was sickening. 

"I'm, er, moving."

For the first time in Nishinoya Yuu's life, he was speechless, frozen, unable to breathe. 

-

Noya, up until this point, thought that moment was the worst of the whole experience. The blow of finding out so suddenly, the sinking moment of realization that your time together was now fleeting, it was just so overwhelming. 

But now he knows. As knocks sound from outside his door, he knows. This is the worst. And he hasn't even seen your face yet. 

Deep breaths. In, then out. 

"Cherish this," He tells himself. "This is it."

The doorknob, cold against his hand, twists slowly and hesitantly. The door itself has to weigh thousands of pounds with the amount of trouble he is having opening it, but finally, there you are.

You have a box of stuff under one arm, the other holding your phone. The combination of the moon and the street lamp behind you present a ring of effervescent backlight. 

"Oh!" You scramble and shove your phone in your back pocket. "I was about to text you."

"Sorry, I got distracted." He opens his arm, allowing you to step inside. 

"How was practice, Nishi?"

Such a simple question, right? But to Noya, it takes everything in him not to break out in another crippling bout of weeping with absurd amounts of tears and snot. You don't need to see that. 

"Fine. Tanaka says he'll miss you."

"He really said that?"

"More or less, yeah." You snicker briefly, which leaves Noya wanting more than just a taste of your saccharine laughter. Even if he went deaf, he'd remember that sound forever. 

You dip your hand into the box, picking up and surfing through the items you brought noisily, causing Noya's attention to snap to you.

"I've got your hoodies, your extra jersey, your Shrek DVD's..." With a sigh, you meet his gaze. "It's all there."

"Yeah..."

Deep in his brain, he wants to know why you look so composed. Your eyes aren't lined with red like his, your hands aren't shaking. You appear surprisingly calm. 

"Are you gonna be alright?" You inquire.

No. Absolutely not. Never. 

"I think so."

The atmosphere is still, shockingly and unusually quiet, especially for the two of you. Everyone always told you guys you were too loud (to which you would flip them off and get louder, of course). What would they say now?

"Well," You step slightly closer to him. "I better get going, early flight, and all that."

"Of course."

"Can I give you a hug?"

Your voice, so timid and scared, makes his hands sting. Why did you ask? You know you don't have to.

Wordlessly, he takes you in his embrace, careful not to squeeze too hard, no matter how much he wants to hold you tight and never let go. His chin rests on your shoulder as the smell of your shampoo fills his nose. The familiar sweet pea scent calms Noya much more than he wants to admit at the moment. Or at least it does until he grabs the fabric of your shirt in his fingers and tears begin to trickle down his cheeks. 

You try to pull away but he lingers, not only to quickly and subtly wipe his tears but to savor the feeling of you for just a second longer.

"See you around, right?" You whisper with a grin. 

"You can't go! Please! I love you!" He wants to scream. He wants to scream those words that sit idly on the tip of his tongue until his lungs burn and his throat is raw and you oblige.

But he doesn't.

"Yeah."

You pat his cheek and lay your soft lips on his forehead for the briefest of seconds before moving past him, out of the door and out of his life.

Like a ghost, Noya drifts into his bedroom, the silence in his house suddenly deafening. He lays on his side of the mattress, keeping your space open, just in case. 

Then it starts. Intense blubbering, wet tears soaking his face as his throat gets so impossibly tight that he can barely breathe. He can't even begin to imagine how pitiful he looks right now. He tugged the pillow you always used to his chest, hugging it with his entire body and shoving his face into it to muffle his shaken and choked out sobs.

God, he loves you. Noya loves you so much and now you're gone and he never got to tell you.

He loves you and wants to see you happy. Just picturing it, you smiling and laughing in your new home with your new friends and a new boyfriend. And you deserve that, a weightless life. He wants nothing but good for you. 

Which is why he didn't tell you how he feels. 

The absolute last thing Noya wants is pity. Not from his friends, his teammates, and especially you.

He doesn't want anyone thinking less of him. He's Noya. The star libero of Karasuno, his team's guardian deity who never calms down. He's not this sad lump of a person, wallowing in a never-ending spiral of heartbreak.

But he is still the person hopelessly, desperately in love with you. And if this is love, he'll take it. He'll suck it up and take every sleepless hour, every jab of pain in his heart, every single fucking tear if this is what it means to love you. 

So, with the absolute entirety of his being and despite how selfish it is, he begs of you to please, never fall in love again. Because he certainly never will. 

~


End file.
